


Still Learning To Love

by ohyeahtotes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohyeahtotes/pseuds/ohyeahtotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry/louis, we were born to fuck each other one way or another</p><p>It hurts. It always hurts after the fact. But neither of them seems to care. They were doomed from the start.<br/>They’re like grenades, holding on as long as they can before it blows up, destroying them and everyone else in the process.<br/>But if they’re gonna explode, then they’re gonna do this together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Learning To Love

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt : harry/louis, we were born to fuck each other one way or another  
> Title from Say Something by A Great Big World.  
> Pretty much the mood music for the this whole thing. Like you can literally keep it on repeat while reading.
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback well appreciated.

\--

They moved in together after Harrys’ first year of Uni.

It’s a little one bedroom apartment about 20 minutes away from the school. It’s warm and quaint; cozy for two lovers. The walls are a deep crimson color. Harry thinks it’s a great metaphor for their love. Vibrant and evasive, passionate, yet over bearing and mournful; so Harry isn’t exactly surprised when Louis walks in drenched from the rain telling Harry that they need to talk.

Harry takes one last look at the wall and sighs, “Yeah, we do.”

-

It started about 2 months ago when Louis called in last minute and told him he wouldn’t be able to drive back to Holmes Chapel with him.

“Oh, okay, I’ll tell mum and Gemma you said hello, yeah?” Harry said slightly disappointed.

Harry counted 3 Mississippi’s before Louis replied.

“Yeah, okay.”

He was distracted, Harry could tell so he didn’t want to keep him long.

He hadn’t asked why he couldn’t make it, and Louis hadn’t offered up a reason. Harry wasn’t sure what to do with that information so he just pushed it aside.

“I’ll call you when I get in then. I love you.”

Five Mississippi’s

“Course, you too.” Louis said and then hung up before Harry had a chance to reply.

Harry contemplated canceling on his mom to go back home and climb into bed with Louis and then just kiss him until all his problems went away. He could tell something was bothering him and he knew Louis wouldn’t bring it up and that Harry asking him would feel like an accusatory thing. He knew these things; he’s been with Louis for years now before they even started dating. He knows Louis better than he knows himself, so he was a bit upset that he hadn’t seen this coming.

Harry spent the weekend by his mums’ house, telling her that Louis was home in bed with the flu but insisted Harry come for the both of them.

Its 10 o’clock and he’s driving home with a warm bowl of chicken soup courtesy of Anne for her sick little son in law –her words exactly. The soup is heavy, thick like a type of chowder. That’s how Harry feels right now; anxious. He should not dread going home. He loves Louis and Louis loves him.

No one’s home when he gets in. The house is exactly how he left it Friday morning when he woke up early to leave. It looks like no one has been living here for the past couple of days.

This should have been his first clue, really.

He sticks the soup for his bed-ridden boyfriend in the fridge and makes his way to the bathroom to wash his traveling off.

He doesn’t look at the clock on the stove on his way there, and he doesn’t wonder why Louis isn’t home yet.

By the time he’s puts away all his clean clothes seeing as his mom took it upon herself to do his laundry despite him telling her he’d do it when he got home. It’s almost midnight and Harry settles in to sleep, the fact that he has an early class tomorrow being the furthest thing from his mind.

Its half passed two when Louis comes stumbling in the house, giggling into a phone, Harry guesses since he can only hear Louis talking but no one else.

“Yeah mate, it was fun.”

“Course… Definitely…Yeah…okay…” Louis laughs. “We’ll do it again soon... okay… bye.”

Harrys awake now as Louis tip toes into the room. He’s changing and there’s a sliver of moonlight coming through the heavy black curtains in the room illuminating Louis; Louis with his smooth naturally tanned skin that reminds Harry of the sunset, his favorite time of day.

Harrys glad Louis had the weekend to himself because he seems to be in a better mood and Harry has missed Louis quite a lot over the past few days. He wants to cuddle, but he can’t bring himself to let Louis know he’s awake. That heavy soup feeling is in his stomach again; weighing him down to the mattress on his side.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Louis eases himself onto the bed, burying himself under the black comforter that they bought to match the curtains. Harry tenses a bit as Louis shuffles around to get comfortable. He’s waiting for Louis arms to wind around his waist and for him to be pulled into his chest. Harry counts the Mississippi’s.

One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi.

He can feel it, can feel Louis watching the back of his head like it holds all the answers to life and Harry so desperately wants to just roll over and reach out to him and hold him like they used to hold each other. But he can’t. He feels like someone, or something is holding him down, effectively stopping him from moving.

At six Mississippi he hears Louis sigh and roll over in the bed so they’re both facing away from each other.

Harry feels like there’s a wall between them and he doesn’t know what to do.

That’s the first night Harry cries himself to sleep, but surely not the last.

-

The next morning, Harry wakes up and finds Louis already in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea.

“Morning, when’d you get home?” Harry asks yawning and simultaneously feigning innocence as if he wasn’t awake the minute he heard the door open. 

“Around two I suppose.”

Harry starts making breakfast for the both of them.

“Oh, where, uh, where were you?” Harry asks and he can feel the word vomit pushing its way up to the surface. He’s nervous. Why would he be nervous? He was never nervous when it came to Louis. He wasn’t even nervous the day he finally came out to Louis. He always knew how it would go. It’s Harry and its Louis. They were made for each other. That’s what everyone says anyway.

“With Nick.”

Louis is talking to him as if he’s a stranger.

Harry feels like a stranger in his own home. He’s heard the phrase before; in his favorite movies, in his favorite books. He never understood just what they meant until now. Harry didn’t feel comfortable in his home right now. Like when a good friend of yours leaves you with a friend of theirs that you only just found out about two minutes prior and you don’t know how to converse with them. There’s a lot of throat clearing and toeing the floor.

“Oh.” Harry says, because what more can he say.

Louis leaves the room and Harry lets out a shaky breath. He wants to scream, he wants to cry and throw a tantrum and be a little kid again. And he wants Louis to hold him. But that’s not going to happen so Harry takes a deep breath and finishes breakfast.

He sets it on the table, sticks one single flower in a cup of water and he sits waiting for his boyfriend to come back out the bathroom.

Louis comes back out alright. But he’s fully dressed, and he’s looking for his sneakers.

“You’re leaving?” Harry can’t help the slight crack in his voice and Louis winces just a bit. He looks defeated, Harry thinks.

He counts three Mississippi’s before Louis answers

“Uh, yeah, I have to –I have stuff to do. I’ll see you for dinner though.”

Harrys’ eyes are stinging. “Yeah okay, have fun.”

Louis opens the door.

“Lou.” Harry starts.

“Yeah Haz?” Louis replies and Harrys’ heart swells at the nickname.

Things almost feel normal again.

“I love you.” Harry pauses. “Okay?”

One, two, three Mississippi’s and then Louis answers, his back still to Harry.

“Course, you too. Bye.”

When Louis closes the door, Harry closes his eyes and lets the tears fall down silently.

-

Things pretty much go on like that for the next couple of days.

Harry hardly sees Louis and when they do their conversations are short and shallow, like when a stranger stops you in the street and you automatically feel on edge so you keep the talking to a minimum.

Harry hasn’t left the house to hang out in days. He goes to classes, goes to work, comes home, makes dinner for two, he eats alone and leaves a note for Louis telling him his food is covered down in the microwave. He showers, completes his assignments and lay’s in bed.

Harry doesn’t sleep much anymore.

He just lays there staring at the crimson wall and wondering how the color red could mean passion and blood at the same time. He thinks about crimes of passion. He thinks about his heart beat and how it’s no longer that calm steady rhythm it used to be. It’s quick and erratic.

Harry can feel his hands shaking. They do that now that he’s switched to coffee instead of just tea. Harry doesn’t even like coffee but he drinks it now to stay awake during lectures ‘cause he doesn’t get enough sleep at the house.

At _‘the house’._ It doesn’t even feel like home anymore; because home to Harry is not that cold side of the bed. Home to Harry is not counting Mississippi’s. Home to Harry is not “Course, you too.” Home to Harry is cuddles during the hottest days because you could be sweating enough to fill a pool but you’d rather hold each other than drown. Home to Harry is quick replies so the other person gets to say more before you have to go because their voice is your favorite sound and you can listen to them talk all day. Home to Harry is I need you and I love you because saying “you too” is like agreeing to something. You don’t just love something also. You love it in your own way because love is perspective and love is nice and love is need and Harry needs love.

Harry doesn’t know how long he has been staring at the wall before he hears Louis coming in.

It’s the same as the night he came back from his mums.

Louis climbs into bed and stares at the back of Harrys head, he reaches out a hand and tucks one of Harrys curls behind his ears.

A tiny sob escapes Harrys' mouth. He hadn’t even realized he was crying.

Harry knows Louis heard him.

Louis hand just hovers in the air for a couple for seconds before he moves it away and rolls over in the bed, his back to Harry.

Harry cries himself to sleep again that night, and when he wakes up the next morning Louis is already gone.

-

It’s been three weeks since Harry has come back from his mums’ house and things haven’t changed in the slightest.

Harry comes home to an empty house every night and he cooks dinner. Alone.

Harry Styles is alone.

Harry Styles is alone and angry and he’s tired of Louis shit. He refuses to wait for him to come around, and he is tired of being in this god damn house with these black curtains and crimson walls that keep _mocking_ him. So he decides that tonight he is going to get bloody wasted.

Harry pulls out his phone and shoots Niall a text.

_You doing anything tonight –H_

Nialls reply comes back two minutes later before Harry could lose his resolve.

_I was just about to hit the bar with Liam wanna come with? –N_

Harry takes a deep breath as he types out a reply.

_Meet you at yours in 10 –H_

It’s late in February; the ground is covered in a light blanket of snow and its cold out. Niall lives exactly seven minutes from Harry’s house which leaves him 3 minutes to get ready. He's already dressed from school and he has eaten which he kind of regrets because it may take him a bit longer to get drunk but it’s not like he has anybody at home waiting for him.

He gets to Nialls house and he and Liam come outside and they walk to the club which is five minutes away.

Harry is proud of himself for finally going out and leaving the confines of that retched house that seems to hold more loneliness than happiness; that is until Liam asks him where Louis is.

It’s not nice of Harry to hate Liam because honestly how is he supposed to know things with them aren’t, aren’t what? Harry doesn’t even know.

So Harry just shrugs and hopes they don’t question him further.

They get to the bar and Niall says first rounds of shots are on him. He lets Liam choose the drink –vodka and they flag down the bartender.

Seven shots later and Harry is practically dry humping some bloke on the dance floor; and honestly, he has never been more content.

This contentment is short lived however, when said bloke whispers in Harrys ear asking him if he wants to get out of here.

Suddenly it’s like everything freezes. Harry can’t hear the music anymore; it’s like rushing water in his ears. The guy Harry was just grinding on is staring at Harry expectantly and Harry feels sick. He tries not to focus on the word idiot chanting through his head.

He tries pushing his way off the dance floor, trying to find his friends back at the bar.

_Idiot, idiot, idiot_

“Harry! What’s up man?” Liam tries to yell over some dub step remix made by the DJ.

Harry can’t answer because what is he supposed to say?

‘Oh hey lads I just finished dry humping some bloke on the dance floor. I probably would of kept going if he hadn’t asked me about sex. So now I’m going home to my boyfriend, oh did I mention our relationship is proper shit right now?’

_Idiot, idiot, idiot_

“I think I’m gonna head home now.” Harry yells back.

“What? Why? We just got here. Zayn isn’t even here yet.” Niall says words slurring just a bit.

“I just remembered I have an early class tomorrow.” He lies lamely.

They’re about to call bullshit and he knows it so he yells out one more goodbye and makes his way out the club as soon as possible.

The cold air slaps him in the face and Harry realizes just how plastered he is when he has to stop outside the club and try to remember which way his house is.

He doesn’t even bother checking the time; he just walks and kicks at the snow thankful that the idiot mantra in his head is currently at bay.

It takes him three tries to get the key in the lock because honestly, who came up with this contraption, it’s like putting thread through a needle. Now try doing that drunk.

He finally gets inside and shrugs off his jacket to put on the coat rack by the door, but he misses it completely and it hits the ground with a thud, but Harry can’t bring himself to pick it back up. He locks the door and turns around to see Louis sitting on the couch with his glasses on writing some term paper for his lit class.

Harry smiles hugely and goes to sit next to him.

He starts at the end of the couch and works his way up to Louis by bouncing from one spot to the next; closer and closer until he's practically sitting on Louis and his laptop.

“Harry please, I’m trying to do my paper.” Louis says sighing.

Harry just pretends he didn’t hear him. “Hmm? What’d ya say Lou?”

Louis ignored him and continued typing so Harry takes a different approach.

If alcohol ever does anything for anyone its giving them a false sense of confidence because all of a sudden Harry is at Louis neck sucking and biting, licking and kissing until Louis snaps at him.

“Harry I fucking said stop! Why do you have to be so childish all the time?” Louis yells pushing him off.

Anger; that’s what Harry feels right now and Harry decides that’s he's going to blame all the alcohol on his sudden outburst.

“Me? Childish? Me?” Harry says getting up. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I’m childish; you’re 3 years older than me. Three and you can’t even talk about your fucking issues. Ever. This relationship is shit ‘cause you are a fucking emotional invalid. What, is it like a Tomlinson family tradition to fuck up relationship after relationship? I mean geez Lou, you trying to beat your mums’ record or summat? Way to go for the gold babe.”

Louis was a pretty intimidating person; always was Harry supposes. He's also quite protective, but he did not. Harry repeats, did not, expect Louis to get up and punch him in his face.

Ever read a book and a person goes, ‘it was like slow motion’? Well boy have I got two words for you…

Bull shit.

The only slow thing that happened was Louis getting up and setting his laptop gently on the couch. He walked up to Harry calmly took his glasses off his face, set them to the side, wound his fist back, and then BAM his fist was slammed right into Harrys cheek.

Harry face planted hard.

It was like Louis punched the intoxication out of him, because all of a sudden Harrys little voice was back and it was louder than ever, and accompanying it was a massive headache.

_Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!_

Harry chose to just lay there for a while and just listened to the sounds in the house. Louis shrugging on a jacket and then the door being slammed shut.

Harry winced because, yes his head hurt, yes he's an idiot, and yes he just let the one person that meant the most to him walk out the door without so much as muttering a goodbye.

-

Harry wakes up sometime around three the next day in his bed. He's not exactly sure how he got there, but his head still hurts and his mouth tastes like something died in there.

Something feels off, but Harry can’t focus on that until he has had a shower and a cuppa.

Fifteen minutes later Harry realizes that the duffle in the front closet is gone and so are a few of Louis belongings.

Shit.

Harrys just wondering when things got this bad, before he noticed it was slipping through his fingertips.

-

Seven days, forty two minutes, sixteen second and counting since Harry last saw Louis, and Harry was miserable.

He used to keep his phone on, just in case Louis called but when his phone died two days later he realized Louis wasn’t going to and he just never felt the need to plug it into the charger.

He didn’t go to class as much and just emailed his teacher all his assignments saying he was sick.

And truth be told he was sick. Harry could barely stomach a meal without it ending up in the toilet while he cried his eyes out.

Heartbreak should be an actual sickness. He should be able to have his mom write a note to the school saying that he cannot be there because his heart was broken; and the school should be perfectly okay with that.

-

It was around six that evening that it started pouring really hard. Lightning and thunder, all the works.

Harry hated thunderstorms, and usually Louis was there to protect him from the bright light and the sickening cracks the sky made.

Harry didn’t even have it in him, to hide under the covers; he just stared out the window, perched on his bed.

It was around 8 o’clock later that evening when Louis burst through the door panting wildly, drenched from head to toe.

His duffle bag hit the ground with a thump and Harry refused to turn around for fear that Louis wouldn’t actually be there.

“Haz.” Louis panted. “We need to talk.”

Harry took once last look at the crimson wall before sighing.

“Yeah, we do.”

Harry got up and walked into the kitchen getting himself a glass of water.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asked Louis.

Louis shook his head eyes wide never leaving Harry. And honestly Harry wouldn’t blame him. He did indeed look like crap. His hair was all over the place. He had huge black bags under his red eyes.

“Suit yourself.” Harry said and then took a drink.

He sat down at the Kitchen Island and drank his glass of water extremely slowly. He didn’t trust his voice right now and he needed Louis to speak first.

Louis must of understood that because he took a deep breath and spoke.

“I slept with Nick.”

Except Harry was NOT expecting him to say that.

Harry swallowed the last of his water with a loud gulp.

“When?”

“The night I came home and heard you crying in bed.” Louis said.

And yes, Harry remembers that night perfectly. It was the last time Louis had touched him, aside from the punch to his face. Louis had swept his hair behind his ear and Harry sobbed. Harry sobbed and Louis heard him but turned over anyway because Louis had cheated on him. Louis had slept with another person.

Louis slept with Nick.

Louis cheated on Harry.

Louis doesn’t love Harry.

Louis…

“Why?” Harry asked.

Louis just shrugged in response and Harry threw the glass at the wall behind his head.

“DON’T FUCKING SHRUG AT ME LOUIS, ANSWER ME. WHY?!” Harry yelled.

“Harry.” Louis whispered and Harry snapped.

He started breaking everything in sight.

He threw glasses, plates, pot, pans, everything near Louis. Not at him but near him. He didn’t actually want to hurt Louis.

Louis didn’t flinch. Not even when the glass flew so close to his face that it blew some of the rain out of his hair. He just kept staring at Harry.

Harry collapsed on the floor out of breath crying. His head in his hands pulling at his hair.

“Why?” He kept whispering.

And Louis just kept shrugging.

He didn’t really have an answer as to why he cheated on Harry. Except that’s not what Harry was asking him.

Harry looked up at Louis tears streaming down his face.

“Why don’t you love me?” Harry whispered.

Louis started crying then.

Harry had never seen Louis cry.

Not when he broke his arm when he was 8. Not when his grandparents died. Not when his dad left is mom. Not when he got picked on for being gay. Never. Louis never cried, but he was crying now and it meant more than Louis could ever say.

“Haz, Haz you have got to listen to me.” Louis cried moving closer, but not touching Harry yet.

Harry just wanted Louis to hold him, but he couldn’t bring himself to initiate the contact. He felt like he was drowning and Louis was his bright orange life boat. Harry could see him there but he was too afraid to even attempt to reach out for him, for fear of him drifting further away, taking his last breath of oxygen with him.

Harry looked up and Louis was reaching out like he wanted to wipe his tears away, but he dropped his hand mid stride.

“I’m so sorry Haz. You know I’m not good at talking about how I feel and I was just feeling so many things and you were there, god, you were always there.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, oh god nothing. There was just so much pressure. Everyone expected us to get together to the point where it just happened and I didn’t even have time to sort out my feelings for you, and your mum, your mum was talking about marriage and babies and me being her son in law and I was scared Haz. I was scared that I was in too deep and that we made a mistake.”

Scared. Louis was scared.

Scared of what?

“I- I don’t understand. Why would you be scared?”

“You expected so much from me. You wanted to move in together and to start a family and it was, you wanted so much and we were rushing and then Nick. Nick didn’t expect anything from me and it was hard and there was no pressure, but it was a mistake. Haz, I know it was a mistake. The minute it happened I knew, and I’m so sorry Harry, I’m so sorry. I was scared I couldn’t be what you needed; I was scared I would fail you. I don’t deserve you Harry, I’ve always known that. You were always so patient and kind an-.”

Harry cut of Louis mid sentence with a kiss and the tears came down harder than ever.

Louis held onto Harry like he was his life line. There was so much. So much going on.

Harry sobbed into the kiss and Louis pulled back.

Harry threw himself at Louis with a hug.

“Thank you.” Harry whispered.

Louis didn’t know what he was thanking him for so he just cried harder.

Despite Harry being bigger, Louis carried them to bed. He changed out of his wet clothes and threw on something dry and pulled the covers over their heads and held Harry so close they looked like one person.

That night both boys cried themselves to sleep.

When Louis woke up the next morning Harry was gone. A note left on his side of the bed.

_Dear Lou,_

_I’ve gone to stay at Nialls for a while. I just can’t be around you right now, and no, it doesn’t mean I love you any less; if anything it means I love you too much._

_Remember that time when we were younger and we got into that huge argument and you stormed out and we didn’t talk for a week and our friends didn’t know how to react? I remember because I was a mess for months after, even when we started talking again._

_In my lit class we are discussing tragic loves. Think Romeo and Juliet (since that’s the only play you’ll read) except no one tried to stop us from being together. We were our own demise, you know, lack of communication and all that. I thought about it Lou and we’re kind of like grenades, yeah? We hold on and hold on until one of us lets go destroying them, the other, and everyone else in the process. I just need time to put myself back together, and it’s kind of hard to do with you there you know?_

_I’m sorry, and I’ll be home soon._

_Love, Harry._

Louis doesn’t know what Harry means by soon.

Soon as in tomorrow? Soon as in next week? Soon as in two months from now?

Louis had no clue when Harry would return but he knew he had to fix himself up by the time that happened.

Starting with his relationships with people.

Louis pulled out his phone and called Nick.

He told him that he shouldn’t have slept with him and it was a mistake and that he couldn’t associate with him anymore. Nick understood completely and apologized to Louis also, saying he shouldn’t have take advantage of him while he was weak.

Louis just hummed in response and hung up the phone.

He took a shower, changed the sheets, did some laundry and then drove up to his mums’ house.

She boiled some water while Louis told her everything that happened, how he had been feeling pressured, which lead to him cheating with Nick in a moment of weakness. He told her everything except what Harry had said that night because he knew Harry didn’t mean it and his mom was extremely sensitive when it came to her past relationships.

She told him that she had no doubt in her mind things would get better and that he just needed to give Harry some time.

And okay, Louis could do that.

-

It was three weeks later when Harry came home and found Louis curled up in a ball in their bed.

Despite the time they had away from each other doing Harry some good, he finally felt like he could breathe again.

He toed off his shoes and climbed in behind Louis and brought him to chest.

Louis stirred and mumbled his name in his sleep.

“Haz.”

“I missed you so much Lou.”

Louis turned around and sat up tears falling from his eyes slowly because yes he did miss this boy so much.

“Say something Lou.”

Harry counted.

One, two, three Mississippi’s and then Louis lips were on his.

If a picture was worth a thousand words, then a kiss was worth twenty thousand.

Harry pulled back out of breath, foreheads touching.

“I’m so sorry Harry.”

“I know Louis, I know”

Louis didn’t know reunions could be so arousing because before either of them knew, harry was grinding his jean clad cock down onto Louis’ soft moans slipping through both of their lips.

“Lou” Harry whined, and Louis stopped moving.

“Are you sure?”

Harry answered his question with a kiss and Louis flipped them over.

He kissed Harry hard, his small hands splayed across Harrys’ torso fingers brushing ever so slightly across his nipples. Harry moaned into Louis mouth and Harry started squirming because there were too many layers, he wanted to feel Louis.

Louis got the message and tugged Harrys’ shirt over his head reuniting their lips once there was nothing in their way.

Louis ground down hard on Harrys; erection both boys moaning.

“S-stop, Lou.” Harry panted.

“What? What’s wrong?” Louis asked worried.

“Don’t wanna cum like this. Want you inside me.”

Louis searched his eyes to make sure he was sure. Harry just nodded at him and Louis reached over to the nightstand for a condom and lube while Harry undressed himself.

Once both boys were completely naked Louis kissed Harry sweetly before coating his fingers in lube.

“You sure?” Louis asked one more time, and Harry just moaned in response.

Louis slipped one finger in and had to suppress the urge to take care of his own erection because Harry was always so tight, and so warm and he forgot what this felt like.

Once he felt Harry relax around him he slowly started thrusting in and out bending his finger slightly as he searched for that spot deep inside Harry that made him moan Louis name.

“M-more, Lou more.”

Louis nodded although Harrys’ eyes were closed and slipped in another finger. Harry arched his back moaning loudly and Louis started to scissor his fingers stretching him out. He slipped in a third without warning and Harry gasped before grinding himself down further on Louis fingers.

“M’ready.”

Louis slipped his fingers out and harry opened his eyes at the loss, watching Louis try and fail to open the condom because his hands were still slick with lube.

“Here let me.” Harry said smiling slightly.

He slid the condom onto Louis and Louis tried but failed to hold back a moan at the first sign of contact to his aching erection.

Harry got ready to turn over but Louis stopped him.

“I wanna see your pretty face.”

Louis slicked himself up with extra lube and Harry hooked his legs over his shoulders.

“You ready?” Louis asked.

“Yeah.” Harry breathed.

Louis pushed the tip of his penis in and had to bite his lip, because he had just stretched Harry out, how could he possibly still be this tight.

Harry was breathing heavily and Louis was about to stop when Harry grabbed his forearm.

“It’s okay; it’s just been a while.” Harry confessed, and Louis wanted to cry again.

He pushed himself in all the way; the only sounds heard are both boys panting.

“Okay, go.”

Louis pulled out almost all the way and slammed back into Harry.

It was rough at first, the only sounds in the room was skin slapping and short fast breaths.

Harry was leaving scratches down Louis back and Louis was nipping at Harrys' neck leaving love bites everywhere.

“L-Lou, I’m close.”

Louis pulled back to see Harry with his hair everywhere, neck and chest littered with angry red marks, and a sheen of sweat across his forehead, and Harry never looked more beautiful.

Louis moaned and pounded into Harry harder, rapping his hand around Harry cock, already slick with pre-cum. He jerked him off the same rhythm as his thrusts.

Louis stopped; switched angles and pushed into Harry reaching that spot inside him that caused Harry to cum hard.

“Ah, ahh, Lou.”

Louis pushed into him harder searching his own climax out.

One, two, three more thrusts and Louis came with a scream and collapsed on Harry smearing Harrys cum all over both their torsos.

They lied like that for a little until Louis pulled out with a wince from Harry and disposed of the condom in the bathroom.

His legs felt like jelly so he moved slowly, cleaning them off with Harrys discarded t shirt.

He thought Harry had fallen asleep in his arms when Harry had spoke.

“Lou, do you know what the color red symbolizes?”

“Uh, love?” Louis asked.

“Well, yeah, but it also symbolizes danger, and war.”

Louis didn’t respond so Harry continued.

“I think the color red is a great metaphor for us, you know? Cause it symbolizes all these strong emotions, like passion, and love and strength. But it also symbolizes anger, and power, and blood. I feel like when it comes to us, we’re either all good, or all bad you know? Like we’re either passion and love or anger and danger.”

“So basically, we were bound to fuck each other one way or another.” Louis said causing Harry to chuckle.

“Yeah.” Harry turned to face Louis. “But you know, I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, you are home to me.”  

And that’s when Harry realized that love is more than just a color and words. Love is everything you could ever need and so much more and they were still learning how to navigate the paths. Harry didn’t need love, Harry needed Louis. Louis was home and love, and the sun and so much more.

Louis was his grenade, and Harry was his. And if they were gonna blow, then you could be damn sure they’d blow up together.

Louis kissed Harry and pulled back with a small smile.

“We were doomed from the start."


End file.
